Tomorrow it will be seventy degrees. The weather pretends that the season hasn't changed but we know it's just a ruse. More of the same is in order. Sweaters are out of boxes hanging on the backs of chairs, ready at hand.
Like most cycles, the end of this one just sets up the next.
There are tiny flies on the water now. It's the start of good Blue Wing Olive weather and thread on small hooks below CDC puffs catch fish and test the limits of eyesight and tippet.
Looking forward, the season of large flies isn't too far off and deep below the stream's surface last spring's spinner's seed is already preparing the next generation of hatch.
We only have to wait it out.